Caprice
CAPRICE
The day
Starting slowly
A faint trill
In the woodwinds
And the sun
Oh the sun!
Tints
Those rose colored clouds
So still
Small and
Shaped
Yawning
Still sleep drugged
Then
A breeze
From somewhere
On my cheek and
In wonder
In thought
I rub my eyes
The sentinels
From on high
Sing praise
Unto the sky
All is twiggy
Woody
Mid March
And I
Standing
Atop an awakening Earth
Dare I wish for
But one last glimpse
That this single moment
Might never end
Copyright © Daver Austin | Year Posted 2010
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